Guys! This is a serious challenge! If you're nominated, you have to write a story about Conan eating bacon for breakfast within twenty-four hours (unless you're passed out from being sick in which case you get forty-eight) or donate a hundred dollars to charity! It's the Beikan Bacon challenge! Spread the word if you care about causes and charity and stuff! And oh yeah, I nominate you!
Conan's class was studying the Bakumatsu era, which detailed the struggles of the westernization of Japan. In order to help him study (however that was supposed to work), Ran had suggested that they spend the day like a typical American family. And by typical American family, she really meant what they had seen in American movies. Shinichi knew better, but he couldn't say anything, so he didn't.
"Geh!" Shinichi jumped up, his eyes wild with panic. He blinked in confusion. "Huh?" If he wasn't mistaken, that had been...
"Good morning, Conan-kun!" Ran played another wake-up tune on her trumpet, about two feet from the traumatized little boy who had his pinkies in his ears.
"Ran-neechan!" Shinichi whined, too tired for it to be fake. "It's five in the morning! And a Sunday!" And he felt like his ears were bleeding.
The girl beamed at him with an irritatingly awake but unpunchable smile. "It's Bakumatsu Breakfast time, Conan-kun! You gotta get up at the crack of dawn!" She marched out of the room, another loud tune blasting through her trumpet.
Shinichi was simultaneously horrified and impressed that she had learned how to play the trumpet just to help him study - though again, he didn't think it was that useful. He shook his head, too awake to go back to sleep at that point.
There was something wrong with his wardrobe. Mainly that, no matter how deeply he dug, he could only find tank tops and cargo pants. He took a pair of those articles of clothing before slamming the drawer shut with frustration. This plan was getting more and more stupid by the moment.
"Yo! Mornin' Ku-Ku- Kunan!" An irritatingly awake and definitely punchable grin greeted him in the dining room. "How ya doin'? I took the libaty of pickin' yer clothes! Impressive ain'tit?" Hattori was wearing a New York t-shirt (which was actually spelled Niu Yark - wasn't Hattori's English supposed to be good?) and his own pair of moss-colored cargo pants. Shinichi spotted an American flag baseball cap sitting on the table.
Don't you just look like a tourist? Shinichi thought wryly. He put on a bright-eyed innocent smile. "Wow! If it isn't Heiji-niichan! It's been forever!" By which he meant two weeks since Hattori had last broke into his home and called him by his name right in front of Kogoro.
A cacophony of aromas assaulted young Shinichi's nostrils - a nauseating blend yet each smell of something delicious on its own. It was confusing, but it seemed to set off his stomach on its wanting. The smell of coffee, of eggs, of corn syrup dyed dark and meant to resemble maple syrup, and the most important smell: bacon. Traditional Japanese breakfasts contained almost no fattening meats, sometimes even containing snotty soybeans or fish. But the tongue had a special place in its sensors for grease, and just the smell of bacon made his mouth nearly overflow with saliva.
"Nee-chan, s't done yet?" Heiji whined, apparently sharing the sentiment.
"Not yet!" Ran answered sweetly.
Heiji hit his head on the table with a groan. "Nee-chan, yer' bacon me crazy!"
Shinichi shot him a deadly glare. Until his stomach was full of delicious bacon, he had his limits. Breakfast puns went way beyond those limits.
"Hattori-kun," Ran said with her motherly scolding voice, "Be patient. To rush in head-first is to agree to be made an example of."
Shinichi raised a brow, wondering what such a foreboding statement could be talking about. In any case, watching Hattori fumble about impatiently was making it hard for him, too.
"Don't worry, Conan-kun! Breakfast will be ready soon!"
With a slightly nervous laugh at being so obvious, Shinichi nodded vigorously. That was Ran alright, always thinking of others.
"Now in the meantime, drink up! Black coffee, just like the Americans bacon it!"
Shinichi stared down at his mug. Did he just hear... No, he was just hungry. Too hungry. That was it. He liked his coffee black too, black like charred bacon. Far too hungry. He chugged down some of the coffee to try to suppress his hunger. The bitter taste only seemed to make his hunger grow.
Kogoro gnawed the end of his cigar. "Rrrgh, that smells so bacon good," he grumbled around the imported smoke log.
A sausage hit Kogoro right on the forehead. "Dad! Not abacon the children!"
Kogoro rolled his eyes. "Like he's never heard the word 'bacon'!"
Shinichi was pretty sure he was going insane. But luckily, Ran was preparing the plates and those tantalizing sizzle strips would be in his mouth soon.
"Who's bacon for some bacon bacon breakfast!" her angelic voice cried out, massaging their ear drums like a harmonic choir of sweet temptations.
The group at the table cheered.
A new voice joined them: "Drop the bacon."
Ran nearly dropped the strip of bacon in her hand - luckily, she had the endurance to sit it on the plate before her hands flew up.
The gun held to her forehead clicked.
Shinichi gasped, yet could hold no air in his lungs. Gin.
Gin's face held a cocky smirk, not like anyone other than Ran could see it through his luscious blond hair that he had since started dying gray - it made him more intimidating, he had found in focus testing (the groups had all been executed shortly after, of course). "Good work, girl. Now hand over that bacon."
Ran's vision swayed. All she could see was blurs of silver. "N-no," she pushed out in a trembling voice.
The icy glare narrowed. "Give me that bacon now or I'll shoot you full of lead."
"Don't do it!" Shinichi shouted, his body frozen as he tried to think of what he would do.
Gin chuckled darkly. "You can resist if you want, but I've planted a bomb. I'm getting that bacon. Now choose: the easy way or the hard way?"
Shinichi's fist tightened, making crescent-shaped marks leak blood on his palm. He had to protect Ran and the bacon. So he had to find that bomb.
Heiji lifted his head, tears running down his face. "Just give him the bacon, Nee-chan," he said, trying to sound calm and failed.
A spark went off in Shinichi's eyes. He powered up his sneakers and made a leap for the counter. Before Gin could react, he opened the window, grabbed two uncooked eggs from the carton, and threw them out the window.
They exploded. Everyone ducked down onto the floor and covered their heads.
When the shock had cleared, Shinichi hopped up an glared at Gin. "You gave me a good scare, but I figured out your little trick." He pointed an accusatory figure towards Hattori. "While you were trying to look scared, you lost your accent. The real Hattori's accent would only get stronger. I only know two people with disguising skills that good. And the other one wouldn't bring an accomplice."
Yukiko gasped. "Book it, honey!"
"NO WRITING PUNS!" Shinichi screamed as his parents ran for it.
Shinichi sighed, sinking into (well, also climbing back into) his seat. Bacon morons.
"Wow, Conan-kun! That was so heroic!" Ran squealed, her hands laced together. "I guess you can have Hattori-kun's bacon too!"
"WHAT WHY DOES THAT BRAT GET ALL THE BACON RAN!?"
Shinichi crossed his arms, looking into the distance with a small chuckle that nobody could hear. Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad. Now, I will be the king of bacon, if only for a day. He closed his eyes and had a moment of silent gratitude, because he was just too proud to thank them in person.
When he'd woken up that morning, his main thought was that all that stupidity had better be worth it.
And as the slimy bacon grease coated his fingers, he knew it was.
